


Sometimes, You Can Still Find Me Dancing

by BoobearStyles



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boyfriends, BoyxBoyRomance, Edward Scissorhands - Freeform, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, one direction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoobearStyles/pseuds/BoobearStyles
Summary: Edward Scissorhands, but make it Larry. Harry as Edward and Louis as Kim.*This is a work of fiction and is not intended to offend or harm anyone in anyway shape or form.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

“Uncle Louis, can you tell me a story?” Louis’s niece, Flora, asks. His gaze was locked on the house on the hill, where he knows that _**he**_ is. “It’s quite late, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be going to sleep?” He retorts, turning his attention back to Flora. “But I need a story to sleep.” She whines, snuggled up in the middle of her bed, delicate head floating on a halo of pillows and fragile body tucked in tightly under her blankets. “Well, I can’t argue with you there, now can I? What kind of story do you want, love?” he asks, sitting on the rocking chair beside her bed, mind still tingling with the urge to look back at that house on the hill. “Can you tell me about the house on the hill?” she ponders, which gives Louis pause, wondering if this small five-year-old can somehow read minds. “The house on the hill? What do you know about it?” he asks, trying to keep his voice level. “People say its haunted.” She answers. Louis sighs, shaking his head, “No, it’s not haunted.” “Then, why do people say that?” “That’s a long story. Maybe, another time.” “But I’m not tired, and I like long stories.” She argues and with those big doe eyes, how could Louis argue? “Well, alright. Are you cozy enough?” he asks, heart beating wildly. “Yes.” She answers, eager. “I guess it would have to start with scissors.” He begins, fingers folded and rested on his stomach. “Scissors?” she queries. “Mm, scissors. There are all kinds of scissors, you know; but this story starts with a very special kind of scissors, a man with scissors.” “A man with scissors?” “Yes. You see, he was no ordinary man with scissors, no. His scissors were his _hands_.” “Scissorhands?” “Scissorhands, yes. This man, he was created and the man that made him, well, he created him to be as close to a normal man as possible. His insides were as human as yours or mine; he had a heart, brain, the whole nine. But he had scissors for hands. And his name was Harry.” Just the name sent Louis’s heart into a tizzy. He hadn’t told the story in a little over 15 years, but he had never forgotten one detail.


	2. ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jay is in this story and i didnt write her in to be insensitive, but to be as close to the movie as possible. Kim's mother plays a large role in the movie and i wanted it to be the same for this fic.

Louis’s mother, Jay, was a door-to-door salesperson by day and wonderful housewife by night. This particular morning wasn’t unlike any other, or so she had thought. House to house, she went, and just like every other season, no one bought a thing. Sitting in her car, feeling rather defeated, she has a realization; there’s one house that she hadn’t tried and that was the house on the hill. Quite looming, it was, in all of its gothic glory; she wasn’t even certain that anyone lived there. As she drove up the driveway to the house, she realized that it was more stunning than the exterior would have you believe. Sure, the plants were either overgrown or they were simply dead, but once you stepped inside the grounds, it was a different world and she could picture the beauty it held in its glory days; the grounds were adorned with the most beautiful and creative topiaries that anyone had seen; dinosaurs, birds, you name it and it’s topiary form was probably there. “Wow, so beautiful.” She had muttered to herself as she climbed out of her old station-wagon. She had used the door knocker, then stood for a moment, waiting to see if anyone would answer. When no one did, she tried the knocker once more, and taking a little initiative, she pushed the door open. “No wonder nobody answered, it’s massive in here.” She said to herself as she stood in the run-down foyer. “Hello? Is anyone here?” she called out into the empty space. She continued to make her way through the home, eyes taking in the crumbling architecture in awe as she continued to call out for someone to answer. “Boy, this house sure is massive.” She called out, unsure if there is anyone else to hear her, but she continued on, anyways. “Oh, there is someone here! I knocked, but I’m certain that you couldn’t hear me from all the way up here.” She stated, looking back towards the flights of spiral stairs that she had just climbed to get to what she assumed was an attic. She can just make out the silhouette of a man in the shadows; the light that is streaming into the room from the caved in rooftop makes it hard to see him. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, dear. I’m your local saleswoman and I’m here to— _oh_ _my_.” She starts, taking a step back and nearly losing her footing when she catches sight of what appear to be large blades in his hands. “I’m so sorry for intruding. I shouldn’t have barged in; I’ll just be going now.” She fumbles, making to run down the stairs as quickly as her feet will allow, when a timid voice stops her. “Please, don’t go.” He had requested, stepping out from the shadows to allow her a good look at him. “Oh, are those your _hands_?” she exclaimed, moving closer. _My, he’s so frightened_ ; she observes. “Where are your parents?” she wonders, looking into the boy’s eyes. _He’s so young_ ; she notices. When he doesn’t respond, she tries once more. “Your mother?” no answer. “Father?” “He didn’t wake up.” He says and she can’t help the way her heart breaks for the poor boy at that. “What happened to your face?” she queries, hand reaching up to touch the marks that mar his youthful face. When he doesn’t answer, she pieces together that his own hands must be the culprit. “I think I might be able to help you with that. Come with me.” She states, turning to start walking out of the room, stopping at the door to make certain that he was following.  
Once she has him situated in the car, seat belt fastened and she is sure that he is as comfortable as she can make him, she starts the short journey from the house—more like castle—on the hill to her home. “Oh!” she shrieks when he gets excited by something that she didn’t catch sight of and she nearly gets a blade to the face. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles, sitting still as a statue. “No worries, honey. You have every reason to be excited; go ahead and look.” She reassures, just as endeared by his enthusiasm as she is concerned about it. “And here we are.” She announces as they pull into the drive of her humble abode. She helps him exit the car and leads him to the front door, watching as he takes everything in. “Now, my son, Louis, is out with some friends, but you can sleep in his room; he can share with one of the girls—oh, you want to look at the photos. Go ahead.” She assures, stopping in the living room and watching as he takes in the family. “This is my husband. That’s Felicite, Lottie, Daisy and Phoebe—the twins, and here we have, Louis.” She points to each family member as she says their name, but his eyes remain locked on the senior photograph of Louis. “Handsome, isn’t he?” she states, watching as his eyes never move. “Come now, this way is where you’ll be sleeping. You’re a bit taller than Louis, but I’m sure that this will fit you just fine.” She states, handing him some clothes to dress in. “Thank you.” He mutters. “I’ll be right back; you go ahead and get dressed.” She offers him a small smile that he returns, before she leaves him alone.  
***  
“Uncle Louis, your mother let him sleep in your bed?” Flora asks, aghast. Louis chuckles before answering, “Yes. But you’ll learn why in just a moment. “Alright, but I think I would be mad if my mommy let someone sleep in my bed without telling me.” She says, eyes wide with incredulity that Louis can’t help but chuckle at.  
***  
“Oh, would you like me to help you with that, dear?” Jay had asked upon finding Harry struggling to get the t shirt on. “Thank you.” He replied once more. _I do hope that Louis won’t be put out_ ; Jay worries as she cleans the fresh cut on Harry’s face. Later that night, as they all sit to dinner, Jay gets her answer.  
“See you later, Lou.” Louis’s boyfriend, Tom, states. Louis smiles at him, accepting the kiss that Tom offers without question. “Later. Footie tomorrow, yeah?” He asks his mates, Niall and Liam. “You know it.” Niall answers. “Sick. Later, guys.” He calls over his shoulder as he marches across the lawn. Upon entrance, everything is as it usually is, until he reaches his bedroom, where he finds the most intriguing and beautiful boy sitting on his bed. “Uh—Mom!” he shouts as he walks back to the hallway. “Why is there a man in my bed?” Louis asks. “Just come to dinner, I’ll explain everything.” Jay answers, worry creasing her brow.  
“Everyone, this is Harry. He’ll be staying with us.” Jay introduced at the dinner table, embarrassed at the way they all stare at Harry. “Hey, I’m Louis.” Louis introduced himself, instinctively extending his hand for a handshake before realizing his mistake. “He doesn’t talk much, Lou.” Jay explains when Harry doesn’t say anything.  
“Lou, what’s wrong with him?” Daisy whispered as they watched the boy with the scissors for hands walk through their home. “Daisy!” Jay scolded, aghast. “We don’t judge people based on their looks, love.” Louis whispered back. Though he meant what he said, he couldn’t help but wonder as well. What happened to this beautiful stranger with the wild hair, timid yet bright green eyes and scars marring his beautiful face? How did he end up with blades for hands? How is he still alive? “I’m sorry about them; kids, y’know?” he tried to soothe the bluntness but the stranger remained silent. His pale, almost purple, lips pressed together, his green eyes wild in wonder and fear. “You alright?” Louis finds himself asking, a tentative hand raising to rest on the stranger’s shoulder, ripping his hand away and planting it firmly at his side when the poor boy flinches. “Give him a moment, Lou.” Jay warns, rubbing a soothing hand along his back. Once out of earshot, Louis turns to his mother with the question that has been burning in all of their minds, “what happened to him?” No, not what’s wrong, that implies that it’s on him that he’s this way, no; what happened to this beautiful creature? “I’m not entirely sure of the answer to that, boo. I am pretty certain, however, that he was not _born_.” Jay speculates, rubbing her hand against her arm in a nervous tick. “What do you mean?” Louis inquires, arms folded in a defensive posture that he reserves for protecting his family; which shocks Louis, because why does he feel so strongly for this stranger? “Well, the mansion—from what I saw, he was alone and the instruments— _tools_ —I just think he was _made_.” She rushes out, looking around to ensure that none of the kids can hear. “Made? As in _created_? Like he’s not _human_?” He asks, looking over his shoulder in the direction of the room that the boy is to be sleeping. His mother nods her head. “Well, then what is he?” Louis ponders aloud. “I don’t know, but I do know that I couldn’t leave him there. He was all alone, Louis. In that big mansion, all run down.” Louis’s mind is flooded with confusion at the boy’s existence and what he even is but the main confusion that’s clouding his thought process is why his mother is even justifying her actions. “Mom, you don’t think that I would be put off by this, do you?” he asks. “I know how much you like your privacy and how protective you are of us all, so I—” “Mom, he was alone and needed someone. I wouldn’t have been able to leave him, either.” Truth be told, Louis was quite offended that his mother thought he would just leave this poor…whatever he is all alone. Never one to take to people easily, Louis was becoming increasingly surprised at his affection for this stranger.  
***  
“Was Harry nice?” Flora asks. Louis’s heart warms thinking about Harry and the innocence that he possessed. “The nicest person you’d ever meet.” Louis asseverates. “You’ll see, let’s continue.” Louis says and he can feel his eyes getting dreamy.  
***  
The following morning brought sunshine as it usually did, which Louis knew meant that his stepfather would be trimming the hedges. On his way out of the house, he notices that Harry is lending a helping…blade. “On my way out! See you tonight, Harry.” He says, smiling at the shock that crosses Harry’s features. He doesn’t respond, simply nods his goodbye, but Louis will accept what he can get. At school, he meets up with his usual crew—Niall, Liam, Zayn, Tom and all of their respecting girlfriends. “So, is it true?” Niall blurts as soon as Louis takes a seat beside Tom. “Is what true?” he asks, confusion wrinkling his brow. “That some weird lad with scissors for hands is living with you?” Liam answers. Louis sighs, rolling his eyes. “If you must know, yes.” Louis, reluctantly, reveals. “Where is he sleeping?” Tom asks. “In my bed. I’m bunking in the basement.” Louis answers, not wanting to share Harry any more than he has to, which only confuses him further. “Why doesn’t _he_?” Tom spits and for some reason, his attitude towards Harry makes Louis’s blood boil. “I told him that he could, not that its any of your business.” Louis quips, narrowing his eyes in Tom’s direction. “It is, though, isn’t it? You’re my boyfriend.” Tom argues, his nostrils flaring and Louis is starting to forget what made him attractive. “It’s not like I’m sleeping in the bed with him.” Louis sasses, rolling his eyes as he picks his backpack up to leave them. “Where are you going?” Tom shouts. “Away from you. You’re getting on my nerves.” Louis shouts, continuing his trek to his first class and praying that the day will go by fast.  
The end of the day brings nothing but more annoyance when he discovers that the neighborhood discovered Harry and are butting their noses in where it doesn’t belong. He gets home to a full house and Harry is the center of it all. Louis can see the discomfort and the nervous energy in his eyes. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s marching right outside to stand beside him. “Hey there, Harry. You doing okay? Hungry? Can I get you something to eat?” Louis asks, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder, smiling when Harry looks into his eyes and nods his head, offering him a small, “Yes, please.” “Sure thing, love. Would you like some crackers, a hotdog?” “Crackers would be fine.” Harry replies, his eyes never leaving Louis’s. “Coming right up.” Louis announces, smiling at him before he marches off to find Harry food and drink. Upon his return, his friends are standing around Harry, which wouldn’t make him anxious, if Tom wasn’t a part of the people crowding him. “Here you are, Harry.” Louis announces, sitting beside Harry to feed him the crackers. “What, he can’t feed himself?” Tom spits at Louis. “Not fucking crackers, you dolt.” Louis quips, rolling his eyes. “We came to ask if you still wanted to play some footie?” Niall states. “Yeah, that sounds fine.” Louis answers, never taking his eyes off Harry. “Footie?” Harry asks him, his tongue peeking out to lick some crumbs off his lips and Louis would be lying if he said that it wasn’t a distracting sight. “Uh, yeah. It’s sort of hard to explain.” Louis replies, suddenly breathless as he stares at Harry’s mouth. “You can come watch, if you want.” Niall invites; Louis knew there was a reason that Niall was one of his favorite people. “I can?” Harry asks Louis, which Louis answers with a smile and a nod. On the way to the footie field, Louis’s curious nature gets the better of him. “How did you get your um, your hands? If you don’t mind me asking.” Harry stares down at his hands, chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought. “My father gave them to me.” He answers, voice quiet enough that only Louis hears. “How do you mean?” Louis asks. Harry frowns and shrugs. “He made me.” “But you have insides like a human?” Louis wonders, receiving a nod. “What happened to your father?” Louis queries, voice quiet as they stand at the bleachers, toe to toe, which makes Louis realize how much taller Harry is than him. “He just didn’t wake up.” Harry answers, voice sad and confused. “I’m sorry.” Louis expresses, looping one of his fingers through the belt loops on Harry’s attire. As Louis walked away from Harry to join the others on the field, he can’t help but yearn for more answers. Victorious at having got some answers, but he wishes that he could learn more about him.  
The week drags on and Louis just gets more and more agitated. “He seems like a nice lad.” Niall announces over a mouthful of sandwich. “I agree; he’s quiet but he seems really sweet.” Liam states. Zayn nods his agreement but Tom feels the desire to disagree. “I think he’s weird as fuck. Not to mention dangerous.” Louis takes a deep breath through his nose. “I think you’re just boring, so you’re lashing out at Harry.” Louis states, pushing his food around on his plate. “What, are you like falling for this freak?” Tom accuses. Louis’s heart thumps at that, but no one has to know. “No, but why attack someone for something they can’t change about themselves? I think he’s lovely and he’s not dangerous.” Louis asseverates, standing from his seat and marching out of the diner they were having lunch at. Tom catches up, much to Louis’s dismay. “Lou, will you stop for a minute?” Tom requests, tugging Louis to a stop. “I’m sorry, alright?” he huffs. “I don’t care, Tom; really, I don’t. I’m bored of this and you’re just showing your true colors.” Louis sighs, defeated. “What is that supposed to mean?” “I’m done with this. I don’t want to be with you, anymore. At least, not with this version of you.” Louis sighs with a shrug, turning away to continue his walk home. As he walks through the front door, he calls out for Harry first. “Harry? You home?” he calls into the empty space. His heart drops a little when no one answers. He walks out to the front to notice that Harry is busy at work cutting their neighbor’s hedges into beautiful shapes. “Isn’t it wonderful, Lou?” Jay asks, gripping his arm as they watch Harry work. “Wonderful? They’re all using him.” Louis grumbles, walking back into the house to get started on his homework.  
***  
“So, you left your boyfriend for Harry?” Flora asks. “Not quite _for_ him, but maybe because of him, yes.” “Why?” “Tom was an ass—don’t repeat that.” Louis narrows his eyes at her and smirks at her responding giggle. “Tom just wasn’t very nice and I didn’t know that until Harry came along.” Louis states, willing himself to not look out the window at the house on the hill.


	3. TWO

A month goes by and Louis’s annoyance increases with each passing day. The entire neighborhood has taken to Harry which is wonderful, but there’s one particular housewife that is being far too affectionate for Louis’s liking. One day, at the footie field, Louis looks over to where Harry usually sits to find the woman feeding him brownies. “Jealous?” Niall teases. “Piss off. I’m with Tom.” Louis huffs, shoving Niall away from him. "I like how you say that you're _with_ him and not that you _love_ him." Niall quips, a knowing smirk on his face. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he _was_ jealous, incredibly so. Louis marches over to where Harry is sitting, takes a seat beside him with an arm over his shoulders and glares at the woman. “Oh, Louis! You’re getting him all dirty!” “Don’t you have a husband to get home to, Joyce?” he spits, winking at Harry and wanting desperately to make a home in the blush that starts to spill across Harry’s cheeks. “Let’s get home, yeah? Mom will have dinner ready soon.” Louis suggests, wanting to place a kiss to Harry’s blushing cheek but refraining. The next couple of days brings Louis the vision of Harry on the television screen, answering questions at an interview. “Do you have a girlfriend?” One of the women asks and Louis’s blood boils. “No, but he has a boyfriend, doesn’t he, Louis?” Tom quips, earning a swift punch to the shoulder. Louis doesn’t register much of the interview, too busy planning his weekend getaway in Harry’s dimples, but the answer to that question—or lack thereof—left him breathless and feeling miles away. He felt as though Harry was staring directly into his soul in that moment.  
Weeks later, he’s sitting in a diner with his family with one burning question in his mind. “Where’s Harry?” he blurts out, interrupting a conversation his mother was having with his stepfather. “Oh, Joyce took him to see the salon. He’s so excited, Louis.” Jay enthuses but Louis nearly chokes on his food. _Joyce_ ; just the name leaves a bad taste in his mouth. When Harry takes a seat at the table, moments later, he’s breathless and no one notices, but Louis does. Louis sees how he’s panting and the way his eyes are colored with embarrassment. “Have a productive day, Harry?” Louis’s stepfather asks. “Joyce showed me the salon; you could sell your makeup there, Jay; then she took me to the back where she took off all of her clothes.” Harry rushes. Louis sees red; he hears red; can goddamn _taste_ it. “She did _what_?” Louis gasps, fists clenched under the table and the only one to notice is Fizzy, who rests her dainty hand atop his to try to soothe his anger. “No more talk of nudity at dinner.” Jay reprimands. Louis obeys his mother, but promises himself to ask Harry about it later. “So, Joyce took her clothes off in front of you?” Louis tries to make it sound like he’s only striking up a conversation, but really, he wants to know what else happened. “Yes.” Harry answers, simply. “Hm, did anything else happen?” Louis asks, back turned to Harry in the hopes that he can conceal how angry he is. “She climbed into my lap, but we fell. Then, I left.” Harry lays out. Louis’s blood is past its boiling point, he feels it curdling in his veins. “Did you want her to do that?” Louis asks, taking a seat on the bed beside Harry, their thighs touching. “No.” Harry answers. “Harry, do you understand that what she did was wrong?” Louis asks, voice soft as he rests a hand on Harry’s thigh. “Was it?” Harry asks; Louis can feel Harry’s intensely curious gaze on the side of his face, so he turns to return his gaze, staring into Harry’s eyes. “Yes, it was. She was trying to force you into something that you didn’t want.” Louis explains, voice full of conviction. “You don’t ever have to do anything that you don’t want to. Alright?” Louis asks to make sure that Harry understands him, but in that moment, all Louis wanted was to feel Harry’s lips on his. “Time for bed, boys.” Jay states, startling Louis away from Harry. “Goodnight, Harry.” Louis sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “Goodnight, Louis.” Harry replies, staring at Louis in wonder.  
After school, as he is leaving to go to work, Niall stops him. “I need to tell you something.” Niall rushes, looking behind them. “Alright, well, spit it out.” Louis rushes. “Tom is planning something. I don’t know what, but I heard him talking about it to that prick, Jim.” “Okay?” “I heard Harry’s name.” Niall reveals in hushed tones which sends Louis’s blood boiling, yet again. “Thanks for the heads up, Ni.” He says, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart as he makes his way to work. That night, when he returns home, he seeks out Harry. His heart pounds when he can’t find him. “Mom, where’s Harry?” He asks her, breathless with worry. “Oh, Tom came by and picked him up; said that he was meeting you for footie and you asked him to pick up Harry.” She relays and Louis feels sick. He sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands and heart in his throat, with the worst-case scenarios playing in his head. The sound of the phone ringing very nearly stops his heart, but it’s the sound of his mother’s frightened gasp that almost sends him into cardiac arrest. “Lou, Harry’s been arrested.” His mother reveals a moment later. “Arrested? For what?!” His eyes are wide in disbelief, a mirror of his mother’s. “Breaking and entering. I have to—” “Yeah, go on. I’ll be here with the girls.” He reassures, waiting until she’s out of the room to break something—an old mug that held pens that had long since run out of ink. All he could think of are ways to make Tom pay, but he figures the best payment would be to completely ignore him, to cut him out of his life.  
***  
“He had Harry arrested?!” Flora asks, outraged. “He told him that I needed him to break into this house, but yes, the plan was to get Harry to do it, then call the cops.” Louis reiterates. “That’s so mean!” “I told you that Tom wasn’t very nice.” Louis reminds, taking a deep breath. “And Harry was too nice.” She decides. “Far too nice for his own good.” Louis agrees, heart thumping wildly behind his ribs.  
***  
In the morning, Louis runs out of the kitchen to find Harry walking through the front door. He wants to run to him, to wrap him in a crushing embrace, but he is also aware of the danger that poses. “You’re home.” Louis says around a relieved sigh. Harry simply nods, back to his silence. “Oh, Harry. You weren’t hurt, were you?” Louis asks, blood curdling at the thought of someone hurting a hair on Harry’s perfect head. Harry shakes his head in reply. “Why did you do it?” Louis asks him, clenching and unclenching his fists with the urge to hold Harry. “They said that you asked me to.” Harry finally speaks, looking into Louis’s eyes as he does. “Oh, babe, I told you not to do anything you didn’t want to.” Louis sighs, melting into a puddle at Harry’s feet. “I’d do anything for you, Lou.” Harry states, voice sounding stronger than Louis has ever heard it. “Anything.” He swears before retreating to the bedroom with his head down. Louis is dumbstruck. Later that day, Tom has the audacity to show up at their home. “No, get out. _Now_.” Louis orders, pushing Tom back in the direction he came in. “When will you stop? He’s not worth your time!” “No, Tom, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re the one that's not worth my time.” Louis spits, turning his back on him to march back into the house without a second glance. He feels relieved for all of five minutes before Jay tells him that the neighborhood has begun to the turn their back on Harry. “I always had this gut feeling that something wasn’t right with him.” Louis heard Joyce gossiping in the grocery store that day. “Oh, _please_! You’re just pissed that he didn’t want you.” Louis spat, walking out of there so quickly that he was sure that his sneakers were going to catch fire. He rests his head on Harry’s shoulder with a sigh. “I’m so sorry that people are shitty, Harry.” Louis apologizes on behalf of the entire neighborhood. “You’re not. Your family isn’t.” Harry reassures, resting his head on top of Louis’s making Louis’s heart feel fuller than it ever has.  
***  
“Is Harry real, Uncle Louis?” Flora questions. “As real as you or me.” He answers with a sigh. “He sounds like he’s from a fairytale.” “He does, doesn’t he?” Louis agrees, heart hurting at the thought of him being all alone all of these years.  
***  
The next day at school, Louis pretends that Tom doesn’t exist. “You’re really doing this?” Tom scoffs. “Happy holidays, dickwad.” Louis says with a smile on his face before dumping the contents of his lunch tray on Tom’s head. The rest of the group walk out with Louis; Niall’s laughter being the soundtrack to their last day before the break. “That was _epic_!” Zayn shouted around his quiet laughter. “How is Harry?” Liam asks around chuckles of his own. That question brings Louis down, sends his heart into a million pieces. “Not well. Everyone is casting him out. They got what they wanted from him and now he’s yesterday’s news. He can barely leave the house without people treating him like a pariah.” Louis rants, shaking his head. “He’ll get through. I think he’s a lot tougher than you give him credit for.” Zayn voices, clapping Louis on the back before hugging him and wishing them all a happy holiday. “Is your family still having your Christmas party?” Niall asks. “Why wouldn’t we?” Louis queries. “Well, I’ve just heard that a lot of people aren’t planning to go.” “Because of Harry?” Louis asks, incredulous. Niall nods, a look of apology on his face. “Their loss. He’s lovely.” Louis states, squaring his shoulders before hugging Liam and Niall. “I’ll still be there; your mom makes the best Christmas feast.” Niall states, pulling a chuckle from Louis. “See you there, then.” He says by way of goodbye, preparing himself for one hell of a Christmas party.


	4. THREE

He’s helping hang the decorations with the question of if they should even have this damn party when no one said they’d come. “We need this. Not just the family or Harry, the whole neighborhood. Maybe, they’ll see that he’s still the same Harry that they all met before and everything will go back to normal.” Jay says as she hangs the garlands. “Alright, mom.” He sighs. “I feel like it’s missing something; what is it missing?” She ponders, and Louis knows that she’s asking herself but he answers her, anyways. “Bells, maybe?” she kisses the side of his head as she makes her way back to their box of decorations in search of more bells while Louis takes a look outside. “Is it snowing?” Louis asks no one in particular. He exits the house into the snow, looking around to see that it’s only snowing in their backyard, then he sees it. Harry, on the top of a precariously placed ladder, chipping away at a very large ice block to shave it into the most beautiful angel sculpture that Louis has ever laid his eyes on. Louis is entranced by Harry’s sure movements, by the shavings that are cascading around him; he is so lost in the moment that he finds himself twirling as they land in his lashes and melt into his hands.  
***  
“Harry made it snow?” Flora asks. “Well, not necessarily, but anytime it snows now, all I can think of is Harry and his ice angel. Sometimes, you can still find me dancing in it.” Louis reveals, closing his eyes for a moment.  
***  
He stands at the bottom of the ladder to let Harry know how beautiful it all is, waiting for Harry to get back on sturdy ground when Tom startles him and Louis gets a handful of blade. “Shit.” He hisses, looking at his palm then back up at Harry to see the panic in his green irises. “Lou—” “Get away from him!” Tom shouts, shoving Harry and Louis hates the look of fear that he sees on Harry’s face. “If you ever touch him again, I _will_ kill you!” Tom threatens, sending Louis over the edge. “It’s just a cut. Just get out of here!” he shouts. “Oh, Louis, come here. Let’s get that cleaned up for you.” Jay suggests, wrapping her arm around Louis’s shoulders. He doesn’t hear the whole verbal attack but he hears enough. “You ruin everything you touch! Just get out of here! You freak!” At that, Louis jumps up from his spot on the couch, rushing out to the backyard to discover Harry is nowhere to be found. “Get out of here!” “He was trying to hurt you!” “You know damn well that he would never hurt me! That’s why you used it against him, isn’t it?! Get out of here, Tom!” Louis is shouting so loud that he can feel his throat getting raw. “Are you serious? I’m losing you to that _thing_!?” “You lost me to him the _moment_ I met him.” Louis states, seconds away from throwing a punch. “Did you see where Harry went?” Louis asks his stepfather, panting with worry. “Oh, I don’t know. He just went waltzing down the street.” “Come here, honey. We’ll find him, it’ll be okay.” Jay tries to soothe, but Louis is beyond himself with worry. “I wasn’t thinking when I brought Harry here. I didn’t think about what it would do to him, or to us or the neighborhood. I just couldn’t leave him alone, but now I’m wondering if maybe he was safer up there.” Jay reveals, sniffling. He’s pacing the house and wringing his hands, heart in his throat when the doorbell sounds. He rushes to his mom’s side only to find the police officer that arrested Harry there. “Good evening, ma’am. I’m here about the man with the hands.” He sounds regretful about it, which gives Louis some hope, but not much. “Oh, uh—” “He’s not here. Thank you, ma’am.” He sighs, turning away to walk back to his cruiser. “Fuck, Harry, where are you?” Louis beseeches. “Did you find him?” Louis asks his stepfather as soon as he’s through the door. “I couldn’t find him.” He says, regrettably. “Maybe, we should go in the car.” Jay suggests, already putting on her coat. Louis starts walking towards the door with them when Jay stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “You have to stay, darling.” “What? Why?” “The girls will be all alone and what if he comes home?” he nods his head. The sound of the door shutting had never echoed so loud. He’s thankful that Fizzy has the twins in her room for the night, so no one was around to see him break down.  
After what felt like a lifetime, the door opens. “Harry.” He breathes out as he rushes to stand before him. Harry looks down and meets Louis’s gaze. “Are you hurt?” he asks, searching Harry for any injuries, but Harry shakes his head. “Everyone is looking for you.” Louis reveals. Harry looks towards the window, but quickly turns his attention back to Louis. “I was so scared that you were going to get hurt.” Louis confesses, not even caring that tears are pooling in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Lou. I never meant to hurt you.” “Oh, I know that, darling.” Louis states, reaching a hand up to cup Harry’s cheek. “Hold me, please.” Louis pleads. A pained look crosses Harry’s face before he whimpers, “I _can’t_.” then walks to the window. Louis walks over to him and takes his arms, places them around his shoulders and places his face in Harry’s neck, closing his eyes in peace for what he knows will be the first and last time. Suddenly, Harry tenses, breathes out the name, “Lottie.” Then runs out the door. It happens so quick that Louis is barely able to register it, but he would notice that Volkswagon van anywhere; then everyone is screaming and clamoring around Harry, shouting at him. As he is running over to save Lottie and Harry, Tom takes hold of his waist. “Let me go!” he shouts. “Why?!” Tom shouts back. “That’s my sister that you almost killed, you dick!” Louis shouts, sending the heel of his foot into Tom’s. “Lottie, are you okay? I’m so sorry; I’m only trying to help.” Harry is weeping above a weeping Lottie. “Get off of her!” “Someone, help!” the crowd was screeching and to any outsider, it would look like Tom was trying to be the hero, but Louis knew better. Louis knew that when Tom tackled Harry off of Lottie, that he was doing it out of jealousy. “Oh my god, Lottie!” Jay screams. “Come on, Lots. Let’s get you inside.” Louis’s stepfather says as he helps Lottie up. “Harry, come home!” Jay shouts around the noise of the crowd. “Tom, get off of him!” Louis shouts, when a siren sounds. Louis spots the cruiser down the street, but he also notices that the car isn’t moving very fast. Whilst everyone else is distracted, Louis turns to Harry and tells him, “ _Run_.” Harry looks like he wants to stay by Louis’s side but one glace at the mob running towards him gets his feet moving. “Just leave him alone!” Louis shouts, but the mob can’t hear him over their own shouting. “He’s gone now! Just leave him be! Everything can just go back to normal!” Jay is shouting, but much like when Louis was shouting, they can’t hear. Three gunshots sound, stopping Louis’s heartbeat but kickstarting everyone else’s Louis takes this small window of opportunity to run after Harry.  
Louis doesn’t get a chance to take a good look at his surroundings; his only goal was to find Harry and make sure that he was okay. His mind was on auto; _find Harry, find Harry, find Harry_. “Harry?” he whispers into the vast space of the room at the very top of the stairs. Louis steps into the moonlight streaming through the missing piece of the roof to notice the mob getting closer. “Har—Oh.” Louis gasps when he turns around to find Harry sitting on a bed of straw. “Lottie? Is she okay?” Harry asks as Louis kneels before him. “Just shaken up, babe. She knows you didn’t mean to hurt her.” Louis reassures, resting his hands against Harry’s knees. “They’re coming, Harry.” Louis whispers, as if the mob can hear them. “I know.” Harry whispers back, looking back into Louis’s eyes. “Harry, I was so scared. I thought you were dead.” Louis confesses, throat thick with emotion. “I didn’t.” Tom voices from the shadows, wielding a gun. Harry uses his body to push Louis to the ground, somehow escaping a bullet. As Tom raises the gun once more, Louis rises to his feet, shoving Tom’s arm up to cause a misfire, which results in the ceiling to collapse further. Tom lands a swift punch to Louis’s gut before tossing him to the side. As Louis struggles to stand, Tom attacks Harry with a hefty piece of concrete rebar. “Tom, _stop_!” Louis shouts, tackling Tom to the ground like an American football star. Once pinned, Louis takes hold of one of Harry’s hands and holds the blades to Tom’s throat, threateningly. “ _Stop_ or I’ll kill you myself.” For a moment, Louis thinks that it will be over. “ _Bullshit_.” Tom states, kneeing Louis between the legs before kicking him across the room. Harry stands, quickly, rushing to Louis’s aide, which further angers Tom. “I thought I told you to stay away from him!” He shouts, making to attack Harry once again, but Harry had the upper hand. Harry turned around with his hands poised and Tom impaled himself on the blades. Harry walks him back over to the window and they watch in horror as Tom plummets to the ground below them.  
They can hear the mob’s gasps as they lay eyes on Tom’s lifeless body, and it pains Louis more than he ever thought possible. “You won’t be able to come back.” Louis states the obvious, but Harry seems already resigned to the fact. “We’ll have to tell everyone that you died.” Louis whimpers, fighting tears. “It’s okay, Lou.” Harry says, leaning in slowly and pressing his lips to Louis’s cheeks, his lips catching the tears. “I love you, Harry.” Louis whispers, looking into the green eyes that he knows will forever haunt his dreams. “I love you.” Harry whispered back as Louis leaned in to plant his lips against the pair he’s been dreaming about since he laid eyes on them. “ _Go_.” Harry urges, resting his forehead against Louis’s for a moment before turning away from him. Louis tears himself away from Harry and forces himself to run down the stairs. He’s about to leave when he catches sight of the very same Scissorhands that are on the man he’s fallen in love with. He takes it off the hook it’s placed on and rushes out to the entrance before they can come in. “Where is he?” Joyce demands and Louis thinks that she’ll be lucky if he doesn’t stab her with these scissors. “He’s dead.” Louis states and the pain he feels at never seeing Harry again makes it believable. “The roof caved in on him. They killed each other.” Louis lies, sniffling. “You don’t have to believe me, but here.” He sniffles again, holding up the blades and caressing the handle like it were the most fragile thing on the planet. “So, you can go now.” He shouts, vowing that he would wait there until every last one of them is gone.  
***  
“You never went back to see him?” Flora asks around a yawn. Louis clears his throat, for it had gotten incredibly thick with emotion. “I had to keep up the story, didn’t I? I had to protect him.” Louis explains, blinking his rapidly moistening eyes. “You could go see him, now.” Flora suggests. “I could, couldn’t I?” Louis agrees. “Have you thought about him?” she queries. “Never stopped.” “I think you should go see him. Thank you for the story, Uncle Louis.” Flora sighs, turning on her side as her eyes drift shut.  
He exits the room and quietly shuts the door to find Zayn looking at him with pity. “You’ve thought about him all this time, Louis?” Louis sighs, trying to keep the tears from falling. “Could never forget him.” Louis admits to Zayn while admitting his defeat and allowing his tears to shed. “Flora is right, you know. You should go see him.” Zayn says, wrapping Louis in a hug before disappearing into his bedroom. Louis sits in the living room all alone for approximately thirty seconds before he is in his car, driving towards the house on the hill. He’s worrying the inside of his cheek as his fingers freeze around the steering wheel. Once inside the grounds, he is hit with relief at the fact that the topiaries stand tall and beautiful, which lends to the fact that Harry has to still be here. He sits in his car for a few minutes, working up the courage to go up to find him, before climbing up the steps and knocking on the massive door with the knocker. When there’s no answer, he makes his way inside. “Harry?” He calls into the cold space. “Lou?” Says that voice that Louis hadn’t heard in 15 years. Louis’s eyes dart to the stairs to find Harry standing in the middle of the stairway. He can’t contain himself, he runs to meet Harry on the stairs, still very much aware of the danger as he stops before he can stab himself. “What are you doing here?” Harry asks, green eyes the brightest thing in the room, staring into Louis’s soul like he’s always been able to do. “I missed you. So much, Harry.” Louis gasps into the cold air. “But the mob—” “They’re long gone, Harry. You can come back.” Louis says, hopeful, but Harry looks afraid. “No, what if it happens again? I think it’s best if I just stay here.” Harry says, shaking his head. Louis frowns, desperately wanting to be with him. “But we can be together.” Louis mumbles. “I love you, Lou. Never stopped, but I think it’s best I stay here.” Harry states, again. “I could stay with you.” Louis offers. “Louis, love, its much too cold up here for you.” Harry reminds, touching one of his blades beneath Louis’s chin, calling attention to Louis’s chattering teeth. “But Harry, we could finally be together.” Louis states, again. “You’ll just have to come visit me, darling.” Harry states. Louis takes a deep breath and nods his head. “So, we can’t live together?” Louis asks, wrapping his arms around himself. “We can’t even lay in the same bed, Lou. It would be far too dangerous.” “You’d never hurt me, Harry.” “Never, darling; not intentionally. I just don’t want to take that risk.” Harry argues, turning to walk up to his bed of straw. Louis follows, never more desperate for someone before. “So, what? Am I just supposed to go on about my life?” Louis queries, tears already spilling as he curls up in the seat beside Harry. “You’ve been doing fine without me, love.” Harry whispers into the cold, words turning into smoke before their very eyes. “You really think that? That I’ve been fine this whole time?” Louis questions, studying every detail of Harry’s face, memorizing everything, branding it into his brain. “Tell me that you haven’t been alone this whole time, Lou. Tell me that you’ve been living your life.” Harry pleads and he seems like he truly wants it to be a reality. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you, Harry.” Louis admits, turning his body to face him. “Darling, I never wanted you to live in isolation as well. I want you to live your life to the fullest. Find love, get married, have children.” Harry states, looking into Louis’s eyes. “I _did_ find love.” Louis whispers, his eyes telling Harry everything that his lips aren’t saying. “No, Louis. You need to go. I’m not coming back and this is no place for someone so golden and warm.” Harry orders, standing from his seat to walk over to the very window that Tom had fallen out of. “Didn’t I teach you better? Never do anything that you don’t want to do; well, I don’t want to leave you, again, Harry.” Louis is seconds away from begging him, the sobs are already building in the back of his throat. “Lou, you deserve more. I can’t give you the life you deserve.” Harry says, voice sad with longing. “I think that’s also my decision, Harry. You can give me _love_ ; isn’t that enough?” Louis argues, stepping closer to him. “I can’t hold you; I can’t touch you; Louis we won’t even be able to sleep in the same bed!” Harry’s sudden outburst shocks Louis; it breaks the silence that had felt so fragile. “We’ll figure it out, Harry. I won’t give up.” Louis vows, gently holding Harry’s wrists. “You need to.” Harry orders. “I’m stubborn, Harry. I’ve tried to find someone new; I tried to forget about you, but I _couldn’t_! Don’t make me do it, again.” Louis beseeches; he can see Harry’s resolve crumbling, can feel the love that Harry has for him is winning over his pleas for Louis to live out his life with someone else. “Harry, I only want _you_. We’ll figure it all out.” Louis promises, stepping as close as Harry’s scissorhands will allow. “We’ll figure it out.” Harry parrots, resting his forehead against Louis’s. “Yes, we will. Together.” Louis swears. “Where would we start?” Harry asks, looking into Louis’s eyes without pulling away. “We can start by rebuilding this mansion of yours into something habitable.” Louis offers, arms loosely draped around Harry’s midsection. “Where would I live in the meantime?” “With me.” Louis states, voice suggesting that it was the most obvious of answers. “I won’t share a bed with you, Lou.” Harry states, tone firm and unwavering. “Okay, then we’ll figure that out, as well.” “How do you figure?” “We’ll get separate beds or figure out a way to cover the blades so that we can sleep together.” Louis suggests. “We’ll figure it out.” Harry says, small smile gracing his lips. “We will. I’ll do _anything_ for you, Harry.” Louis promises, looking into the most beautiful pair of eyes he’d ever seen.


	5. Epilogue

As promised, Louis did whatever he could to stay by Harry’s side. He had the house rebuilt and they stayed at his home, where as suggested, they got separate beds until Louis made paraffin wax molds to cover the blades. They got married and Louis lived out his days trying to make Harry as happy as he could manage. When Louis’s time ran out and Death came knocking, Harry had been distraught. He had Louis buried on the grounds of the house on the hill, where Harry remained, as though he’d never left. Zayn, Niall and Liam all came up to visit, before Death claimed them as well. Now, Flora comes up to keep Harry company, as well as Niall and Liam’s children. Harry tries not to dwell on the fact that he’ll outlive them as well; tries to live in the moment, but every winter, when he has his ice blocks and he’s shaving them down into various statues of his angel, Louis, he can only think of seeing his love dancing in the shavings, with a smile on his face and that’s the way he wants to remember him.


End file.
